


hva er dette? Narcos?

by koolranchkidz



Series: Isak & Even Do Some Crazy Shit [2]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Aged-Up Character(s), Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bipolar Disorder, Closeted Isak, Drug Addiction, Drug Dealing, Even is older, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Gun Violence, M/M, Multi, POV Even, POV Isak, POV Isak Valtersen, Secret Relationship, This has crime oops, Underage Drinking, first year, isak looks like a lil baby, jailbait isak
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-10-24 03:06:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10732866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koolranchkidz/pseuds/koolranchkidz
Summary: The two guys strode down the now barely lit street. Before they were too far away to see, Isak saw the tall one flip his green hood over his head, revealing two words embroidered on the back of his leather jacket.‘Helvete Gutter’+ Or: In which Isak meets Even in first year, and he's a drug dealer





	1. Jonas' Maker

**Author's Note:**

> Oh hey, its me again. This one's gon be a lil weird. And way less pleasant than my last, of which I'll still update dw.
> 
> So it's first year and some things happen
> 
> Warnings: Drugs, Weapons
> 
>  
> 
> i have a spotify playlist for this but idk how to paste the link here so idk

_This is it. This is how I die. I’m going to crawl up from hell and kill Jonas._

The car was parked about half a block from the _spot_. Isak couldn’t see much through the scratched old windows, but he could tell something was wrong. This wasn’t supposed to take that long, ‘only like five minutes’ they said. ‘Wait in the car’ they said. _Bullshit. All of this._

 

It reeked of burnt out cigarettes, malt liquor, and stale air in the car. Next to him, on the cracked vinyl seats, sat three handguns, he wasn’t sure what kind, not that it mattered anyway, along with a pound of cocaine wrapped up in plastic, and four backpacks.

 

One of the backpacks was his, since Jonas had dragged him along immediately after school got out, the other three he assumed where Jonas and Ingrid’s brother’s.

 

Now, Isak knew Ingrid’s brother was Jonas’ weed man, but other than that, he hadn’t heard much about the guy. He definitely hadn’t been told that he dabbled in big-time drug smuggling, trading, whatever this was. Isak also used to think Ingrid’s brother was younger, but no, he had to be over 6’5” with facial hair and bandanas and guns and shit. _And this sketchy ass car._

Which brings us back to the windows, or what was going on outside said windows. Jonas and Ingrid’s brother were outside, almost out of his range of sight, standing on the corner of the abandoned street.

 

Isak didn’t know what street this was or in what part of the city, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was why they had been out there for almost an hour. They were only talking to two other guys for fuck’s sake.

 

Isak raked his hand through his hair. _I have homework. Ugh. Hurry!_

 

He turned to look back outside when his phone rang. Shit. It was Eva.

 

Isak loved Eva, he really did, and he loved her enough that there was no way in hell he would let her find out that her boyfriend was out on a drug deal with his ex’s brother. It was for her own good, really. Also Jonas’, but whatever.

 

He answered it anyway.

 

“Hey Eva!” He pushed some extra enthusiasm into his words.

 

“Isak!! We haven’t talked in a while, what’s up?”

 

What _was_ up? Good question. His basic common sense told him not to tell her what was actually going on, though, so he went as vague as possible.

 

“Not much, how about you?”

 

“Oh, y’know… Jonas said you guys were over with Elias, are you still there?”

 

Shit.

 

“Uh, no. We, uh, we went back to his after Elias’ mom came home.”

 

“Where’s Jonas? You said you were with him right?”

 

“Uh, he’s in the bathroom. I don’t think he’ll be out soon though, sorry.”

 

Isak played with the string of his hoodie, holding his breath.

 

“Oh that’s fine. Say hi for me though! I should get going on my homework anyway. Gotta get that 6.”

 

“Ha! Ya I should, too, but uh… See you, Eva.”

 

Isak glanced outside.

 

“Yeah bye.”

 

The other line cut off, and he shut off his phone.

 

Taking another look out the window, he saw a cluster of black things coming from the intersecting street.

 

Black things? Bikes? They were bikes.

 

As they got closer to the street corner Jonas was on, Isak could almost make out their faces, and how many of them there really were.

 

It was a gang of about seven guys on big black motorcycles, all wearing matching leather jackets, some with bandanas obscuring their faces, some with bandanas on their heads. Puffs of smoke came out the tailpipes of those seven hunks of metal, making it harder to see what was going on.

 

His curiosity took the best of him and Isak rolled down the window to get a better look. It was manual, so it took _way_ too long to open. _Fuck this car._ Once the window was down, he leaned his head out, clutching his now sore forearm.

 

The loud rumbling coming from the bikes had now stopped, filling the street with an eerie silence. Isak was sure that the group was talking over on the corner, but he couldn’t hear any of it from all the way down the street.

 

_If I see anything bad, I’ll come over there. We’ve got three guns. It’s all gonna be okay._

Even if he was somewhat on edge, Isak was still bored as shit. He wasn’t about to get out of the car, though, he didn’t have a fucking death wish. If the gang on the corner saw him walking up, they’d either shoot him, or shoo him away like a 5 year old. So, instead of getting out, Isak stared out the window.

 

There was a slight breeze coming from the north, blowing some of his hair off his forehead. It smelled a little bit like diesel, but Isak recognized a hint of cologne in the air. The sky was starting to dim, and the blue that was there before had turned to more of a lavender.

 

After -what -15 minutes, Isak saw four figures walking his way. He frantically rolled the window back up. He didn’t want them to know he was watching them or anything. Not like he could see what was going on, anyway.

 

When they finally got to the car, Isak had made himself busy staring idly at his text conversation with Eva. The four figures turned out to be Jonas, Ingrid’s brother, who’s name Isak really should have asked about, and two tall guys wearing leather jackets trailing a few meters behind the other two guys.

 

Isak chewed the inside of his cheek, trying to sink deeper into the seat, when the door he was previously staring out opened.

 

_Fuck, don’t look at them._

It was only then that he remembered the guns and cocaine that were on the seat next to him.

 

_Oh shit. What the fuck did I get into?_

 

He scooted away from the open door, and looked instead at the hand that had opened it. His eyes trailed up, along the leather that encased the person’s arm. Isak’s gaze travelled even further up, to the person’s face.

 

The person, he realized, was part of the unnamed biker gang that had showed up just recently.

 

The guy Isak was staring at, now, had a bandana tied lazily around his forehead; his hair flowed above it like a dark-blonde waterfall. It was like this guy’s hair defied gravity, fuck. He wore a soft green hoodie underneath his jacket and black jeans with a 9mm pistol tucked into the waistband.

 

This guys face was indescribable. To Isak, he looked like a fucking angel. Somehow, even with a literal loaded gun in his pants, he looked like he came from heaven, so Isak kept staring at him.

 

The guy was looking back down at him, unblinking, with wide blue eyes. Isak noticed him clench his jaw and swallow a whole lot of nothing. Ingrid’s brother was lingering behind him with his arms crossed over his chest. He too, looked at Isak _. What the fuck is happening?_

Outside, Jonas and the other biker guy, this one, with dark hair flowing down to his shoulders, strolled up to the door. Isak looked closer at Jonas, to see if he was afraid or anything, but his face was completely straight, showing no emotion. _Remind me never to play poker with him._

With the other two guys to compare him to, door-opening-guy, as Isak now noticed, was super fucking tall. Like, almost taller than Ingrid’s brother.

 

That tall.

 

And lanky.

 

And _his jawline looked like it could cut someone. Dayum._

The dark haired gangster slung a back pack off his shoulder, and tossed it roughly to the waiting hands of Ingrid’s brother.

 

The tall one took his other hand out of his pocket, and pointed an open switchblade at the coke

 

“Is this all?”

 

_Fuck, his voice is deep._

Isak knew the knife wasn’t directed at him at all, but he couldn’t help the short intake of breath he took when he saw the shiny metal of it.

 

“Weigh it, if you want. It’s all there. What about your end?” Ingrid’s brother piped up from behind.

 

“Same here. Count it. The product was all there last time.”

 

The tall guy turned back to address Ingrid’s brother.

 

“-And this time, too. We do good, you and I.” He turned back to the car, nodding along to his own words.

 

He leaned down and to grab the block of white, getting close enough for Isak to inhale his scent. Isak looked at him, his lips subconsciously parting. The guy held his gaze for a moment.

 

“Who’s the kid? You babysitting?” The tall guy stabbed the block with his blade and it stuck. He held it up and stepped back, turning to Jonas’ side, now.

 

Jonas laughed and glanced at Isak. “Nei.”

 

“Our friend. ‘Just tagging along. He ain’t a rat, promise.” Ingrid’s brother smirked at Isak from next to the second gangster.

 

The tall one nodded.

 

Jonas stepped up to the door and grabbed one of their backpacks, tossing it to the dark haired gangster, who took a look inside.

 

“You call Adam sometime, okay? We’ve got a job coming up.” With that, the tall guy slammed the car door in Isak’s face. Through the foggy glass, Isak saw the guy rip his knife out of the coke, before closing it and tucking it in his jacket pocket. He turned around to his partner and stuffed the white block into his drawstring bag.

 

The two guys strode down the now barely lit street. Before they were to far away too see, Isak saw the tall one flip his green hood over his head, revealing two words embroidered on the back of his leather jacket.

_‘Helvete Gutter’_

 

 


	2. /lean/ / /

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hot diggity damn, I'm back
> 
> if any of you know how to get a link to work in the notes then lemme know cuz i have a spotify playlist for this. Anyway, this takes place in Isak's first year at Nissen, sometime after Eva and Noora see the stuff on his phone, but in this universe, he doesn't break Jonas and Eva up for whatever reason idk. Also, there are so many innuendos in here, like, without context it'd sound very ;)
> 
> \+ ZOOM, bat cave but with drugs & guns, CHerRy,

[Spotify Playlist if u wanna](https://open.spotify.com/user/bellcam85/playlist/4Jfu2mmC6XsKU8Ns49iGqi)

 

“Ummm, what the fuck Jonas?”

 

Isak and Jonas had just been dropped off at Jonas’ place after their ‘quick errand’. Isak was all kinds of worked up after what he’d just been subjected to had registered in his head.

 

_Cocaine, guns, money, weed, hot guys, that dumb fucking car._

 

How did Isak’s best friend; a first year, at that, manage to get himself involved in what seemed like a major drug hustle.

 

What the fuck, indeed.

 

The two of them were laying on Jonas’ bed, each scrolling through their phones when Isak’s outrage took the best of him.

 

“I know, I know! I didn’t think it would take that long. Honest.” Jonas had sat up along with him, and crossed a hand over his heart.

 

“No, Jonas. I’m not talking about the fucking time, okay?” Isak pushed as much sarcasm as he could muster, into his remark.

 

Jonas looked genuinely confused with him. _Are you kidding with me? Great._

“Then what are you talking about?”

 

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the guns and cocaine. Or the fact you’re friends with a bunch of drug dealing biker-gangsters. Fuck’s sake!”

 

Jonas smiled at him. He locked his phone, committing all his attention to his friend. Isak waited for an explanation, his eyebrows drawn together and lips pursed.

 

“Look. Anders needed some help this one time, I swear. If we wanna keep getting the shit from him, we’ve got to do him some favors. Y’know?”

 

_So Anders, Ingrid’s brother’s name was Anders. Okay then._

 

Isak still couldn’t grasp that doing Anders a favor meant trading huge amounts of drugs with a group of scary guys who didn’t even try to hide their weapons. Jonas probably didn’t give a shit, though, so Isak chose to pretend like it wasn’t that big of a deal. He tended to overreact anyways.

 

_Be more chill, Isak._

“Yeah, sure. I mean, if you ever need me to help again, I’m pretty sure I can do more than just sit in the car.”

 

Isak gave his friend a smile. _Be cool._

“Totally.” Jonas nodded at him then looked back at his phone when a ‘ping’ went off.

 

* * *

 

There were a lot of things Isak didn’t know about his life; one of them being how to fix his family.

 

His parents used to be great. When he was a toddler. But over time, their issues became more visible to Isak. They would fight almost every night, throwing things and yelling expletives through the house for Isak to hear.

 

His mom, he didn’t know how to describe her, had some definite issues. He remembered her crying over him in the dead of night, chanting gibberish. Yelling at him about God’s wrath. She’d sometimes just walk out of the house and come back three days later, without an explanation or reason. But she’d _always_ come back.

 

His dad was a different story. He was hardly ever home to take care of his mom’s antics. It was either work, or the mysterious ‘errands’ he’d run. It didn’t matter where he was, though, what mattered was that he wasn’t _home_. And that Isak was always the one to deal with his mother’s crazy shit.

 

It got so tiring sometimes, being at home, so Isak took after his dad and stayed away as often as possible.

 

Isak was happy he could count on Jonas always letting him stay over. He didn’t really have any friends other than him, so he didn’t have anywhere else to go, but Jonas listened to him bitch about his home issues, and Isak let him brag about his relationship.

 

Another thing Isak didn’t know about his life was why he never grew into liking girls. He thought some of them were pretty, sure, Eva was pretty, but that didn’t mean he wanted to fuck her. He never really understood how Jonas could talk about shit like that. It just grossed him out. Not sex, just, sex with _girls_.

 

Isak didn’t think it mattered what turned him on or not, that’s all just biology anyway. It didn’t matter that there were no boobs featured in his late night thoughts, but rather, muscles and sweat and how it would feel to just touch a boy.

 

Isak didn’t know what liking what he liked made him, and it scared him so much that he didn’t bother to look for the answer.

 

* * *

 

Two weeks had passed with not much happening in Isak’s life.

 

Wake up, school, skatepark, Jonas’, home, repeat.

 

Everyday, seven days a week. It all went by achingly slow, yet still managed to breeze past him.

 

Isak was sat in his bed, leaning up against the headboard. His laptop sat on his stomach, gradually warming up. He had an essay to write, but he couldn’t focus.

 

His mind kept drifting back to the ‘errand’ he was dragged along to. The exhilarating feeling he got from watching it all unfold. A blurry picture of the pretty gangster’s face etched itself into his head. It hadn’t been that long, but it felt like _so fucking long._

Isak knew it wasn’t a good idea to get involved in organized crime, but it wasn’t murder, not yet. He knew he shouldn’t be looking back on his first drug deal experience in such a good light, but he couldn’t help it. Jonas said it was just a ‘favor’, just some help for a friend. It wasn’t that big of a deal.

 

_Anything but this. Anything to be away from home a while longer._

Isak’s phone chimed from over on his bedside table. He slid into a real sitting position, pushing his laptop off him, and grabbed his phone.

 

When he unlocked it, he was greeted with a couple texts from Jonas.

 

**jonASS**

_(22:31) Bro_

_(22:32) You said you could help Anders right?_

_(22:32) Well now's ur chance_

 

Okay. Wow. What the fuck.

**Isak**

_(22:34) Pick me up in 5_

Isak locked his phone. He didn’t need to see if Jonas would respond. He’d made his mind up.

 

He tugged a beanie over his hair, combing his fingers through, then threw a jacket over his hoodie. He tied his shoes as fast as he possibly could, then dragged his bag behind him, and outside.

 

The streetlights over the sidewalk illuminated the night just enough for Isak to see a black mustang zoom up the street and stop in front of him. The engine rumbled loudly, seeming even louder compared to the quiet neighborhood.

 

The window rolled down, revealing Jonas. Elias was behind the wheel bobbing his head to the music booming from his speakers. Jonas motioned for Isak to get into the car, smiling widely.

 

Isak pulled the door open and hopped in, throwing his bag into the seat next to him. They jolted forward the second Isak shut his door.

 

He looked around the car at the seat next to him: guns, again. Of fucking course.

 

“Where’re we going” Isak asked anyone who would listen.

 

Elias turned the volume down and turned back to him for a moment.

 

“To make some fucking money!!” Elias turned back to the wheel, whooping and hollering, and turned the volume back up.

 

_Make some money?_

 

Isak felt the vibrations coming from the speakers shake his insides. _Be cool._

The car turned a corner recklessly, jerking Isak against the door since he hadn’t put on his seatbelt. _Too late now, I guess._

 

* * *

 

Once the car had stopped, Elias and Jonas turned the music off, got out, and slammed the doors shut. Isak wiped a hand down his face, rubbing at his eye with his thumb knuckle.

 

He felt like he was buzzing. Was it excitement? Fear? A swarm of bees? Isak had no fucking idea.

 

He stepped out but kept the door open for the boys to grab their guns. _Fucking guns. Norskegangsters and their guns. Who would have thought?_

Elias came next to Isak and grabbed the guns, tossing one to Jonas and snapping the other into Isak’s grasp, before slipping his own into his waistband. Isak flipped the gun around in his hand, adjusting to its weight and unfamiliar feel. He’d never shot one of them before. To be fair, he never thought he would, but there they were.

 

“Let’s go.” Elias put on his game face, slamming the door shut and pressing a button on his key fob to lock the car. It let out a beep.

 

Jonas came up next to Isak and slung his gun-wielding arm around his shoulders. He pat Isak’s shoulder blade and Isak could feel the butt of the gun dig into his flesh.

 

They walked in long-legged strides through the parking lot. Isak tried his best to keep up. The abandoned strip mall Elias had parked them near stood unlit and looming over them. The closest streetlight must’ve been 100 meters away. Isak leant into Jonas’ side subconsciously. As much as he’d like to say he was cool and collected, this place creeped the shit out of Isak.

After a bit of walking and shaking in the cold of night, the three of them came upon a busy street. They stood at the junction, waiting for the ‘walk’ signal to light up.

 

Once they made it across, Elias led the trio to a two-story dive bar, with neon lights hanging in the windows, a metal security door, and a wooden sign hanging over the pavement. Jonas pulled Isak with them down a short set of steps next to the bar.

 

A door stood in front of them. There were no lights above the door, and neither of the boys took their phones out for a flashlight. Jonas let go of Isak and stepped towards the door. Isak stayed back a few paces, holding his breath. He realized just in time that it was a good idea to conceal his gun, so he tucked it in his hoodie pocket, under his coat.

 

Jonas wrapped on the door a couple times, before a small gap of it slid open, at about eye-level. A few rays of light cast over them through the gap, before being replaces by a pair of eyes.

 

“Jonas? Anders’ mate?” A voice came from behind the door. Isak didn’t recognize it.

 

“Yeah. Isak” Jonas pointed to him before pointing to the other boy.“-and Elias. We talked and they’re gonna be helping too.”

 

Jonas sounded so sure of himself, so hardened and confident. Maybe Isak could be like that one day. _Maybe._

The wind howled behind them and cars continued to rush by. The shaking of the ground could be felt from their position slightly underground. Isak pushed a breath through his teeth. It was getting colder by the minute. Of course it was, it was early February, and the spring was quite a ways away.

 

The door opened with a screech, metal on metal scraping together. A bulky guy in a similar leather jacket herded the group in through the door. His hair was shorter and darker than the two gangsters Isak was familiar with. Jonas greeted him with a side hug, and Elias gave him a nod, before they both walked further into the place.

 

Isak looked around at the room. It was only slightly warmer inside than outside. It was dimly lit, and smoke lingered in the air. There was a dark hallway to the left, and a long wooden table ahead of him. A cracked, cheap chandelier hung above the table. A couch sat against the leftmost wall, stacked with duffle bags, white blocks of coke wrapped in plastic, and piled with AKs. A few gangsters lurked in the front room, loading guns and chatting over an expensive looking, lit bong. Isak felt out of place.

 

He followed Jonas and Elias to the big table. There looked to be around ten guys sitting in the seats. About 6 of them had ‘Helvete Gutter’ jackets, and the other 4, including Jonas and Elias, had bandanas to match the others. When Isak came up to the table, the bulky guy from the door threw him a bandana of his own and nodded to one of the last few empty seats. Isak took it silently and sat down.

 

A tall, dark haired guy with broad shoulders came to the table with a tall bottle of vodka and a stack of shot glasses. He dropped them on the wood surface with a clank and slid the bottle to the middle of it. He fell lazily back into his chair at the end of the table, looking around at the guys.

 

Isak sensed movement next to him and a puff of warm breath on his neck. He turned to his side to see who was there, and sure enough, a familiar blonde guy had sat down in the free seat next to him.

 

It was the tall gangster from a week ago, only this time; he was dressed entirely in black, and his bandana was tied to cover the bottom half of his face.

 

Isak inhaled deeply, his lungs filled with the guy’s scent. He felt dizzied by it. It smelled like tobacco, mint, and something sweet Isak couldn’t quite figure out yet, but it practically knocked him out. Isak never wanted to be wrapped in any other smell.

 

“Right! So…” The broad shouldered guy spoke up. _He might be the leader._

He turned to Isak, narrowing his eyes, then turned his gaze to Jonas. He took a shot glass off the top of the stack, setting it on the wood harshly.

 

“You bring the kid?” He asked Jonas, who gave a side-glance at Elias before nodded over at Isak.

 

_Why is everyone calling me a kid? Jeg er seks-føkkings-ten!_

All the heads around the table turned to Isak, scrutinizing him with their eyes. He shrunk into himself at all the attention. Isak looked at Jonas, screaming for help internally.

 

“He’s not a ‘kid’.”

 

Isak half expected the room to explode into a he fight after Jonas said it. But it didn’t. Why? Jonas wasn’t one of them, and he had just openly contradicted the leader of a biker drug gang.

 

A few of the guys chuckled.

 

The presumed leader stood up and walked into the adjacent kitchen. Isak couldn’t see far into the kitchen, but a flickering florescent light beamed through the doorway. He heard glass clink, and next thing he knew, the leader was back on the room, holding a polystyrene cup and a bottle of cough syrup in one hand, and a can of sprite in the other. A plastic bag was wedged in between his elbow and ribs.

 

He set the bottle, can, and cup down, then threw the bag over at Isak. It dropped loudly on the table in front of him. Isak turned the bag around, examining it. It was candy; Jolly Ranchers to be exact.

 

“Pick your poison.”

 

The leader started pouring vodka into the cup. He sloshed what looked like _way too much_ syrup into it, then cracked the sprite open and poured its entire contents out.

The tall guy sitting next to Isak leaned down to whisper in his ear.

 

“I’d go with cherry, personally.”

 

His breath burned into Isak’s skin, warm and moist. It made him shiver. His stomach felt strange, like an enormous led ball had settled itself there. At the same time though, his heart was thudding in his chest.

 

Fear? Exitement? Want? Confusion? Yes. All of those. Isak was feeling all of that.

 

“What is this?” He choked out. He hated how mousy his voice was.

 

Isak turned his wide eyes to the leader, who widened his smile at him.

 

“Initiation.”

 

The guy pulled the vodka back to him, unstacking all of the shot glasses and placing them in a line on the dingy wood surface. Once the glasses were filled, he took a long swig from the open bottle.

 

He passed the foam cup to the closest guy, and eventually, the cup made its way to Isak. He then grabbed the shots and stood up, knocking his chair back in the process. The sound of shoes against concrete echoed through the area. He somehow managed to hold all 7 filled glasses in his two hands.

 

The leader came from behind him and set them down in front of Isak. Isak turned to look up at his face.

 

He looked Isak straight on the eye and offered a hand to him. Isak hesitated at first, but then shook firmly.

 

“Mutasim. You?”

 

“Isak.”

 

“Welcome to the business world, Isak!” He looked around at the faces at the table, shaking his head up and down subtly. All of them whooped, and a few chanted Isak’s name.

 

Jonas smirked at him, flashing an encouraging smile his way. Elias’ mouth broke into a grin, too.

 

Isak gulped.

 

The leader, Mutasim, pulled his jacket sleeve back to reveal a shiny gold watch. He pinched it, the watch making a clicking noise, and nodded down at Isak.

 

“You have three minutes. Go.”

 

Isak looked around again frantically, then grabbed for the bag. A hand stopped him, though. Isak saw wrappers scattered on the table. The hand on his stayed where it was, pinning him down. It was the same hand that had opened Anders’ car door.

 

Isak tilted his head up to see the tall gangster looking back down at him. The guy raised his eyebrows and shifted his gaze to the cup.

 

Mutasim was back at the end of the table, now, staring at him. The others were too.

 

“Hurry up, you’re running out of time.”

 

He let go of Isak’s hand and put some space between them again.

 

“Uh, thanks.” Isak whispered, then grabbed the foam cup and chugged at much as he could in one go.

 

 _Fuck_. It was disgusting as a kid and it’s disgusting now.

 

Isak felt his entire body cringe. The drink tasted so strongly like cherries. Not even real, good cherry. Fake cherry syrup. There was also that underlying bitter taste of vodka attacking Isak’s tongue and throat. The sprite was supposed to tone everything else down, but all it did was make it fizzy on top of it’s horrible taste.

 

He had to stop to take a breath after he drank half. _My body isn’t meant for this._

Isak felt his stomach lurch and something liquidy rush into his mouth, but he swallowed it down, ignoring it’s acidic burn, and brought the cup back to his lips.

 

By the time the cup was empty, Mutasim clicked his watch again and watched Isak even more intently.

 

“One minute!” He called out. The table erupted into shouts and chants and hands banging on the wood.

 

The tall guys next to Isak pushed a shot glass to him, and grabbed a second one, too.

 

Isak threw it back. It burned down his esophagus, eliciting a couch from him. The guy thrust the second shot into his weak hand.

 

He gulped that one, too. Everything was starting to go fuzzy. The guys around Isak had bright halos of light above them, and the sounds he heard were nothing but muffled nonsense.

 

He felt glass in his hand again, and automatically brought it to his lips. The cup clashed with his teeth before he swallowed the liquid.

 

Another shot.

 

Another.

 

Another, and Isak was starting to fall over.

 

Another. He slammed the glass on the table right when Mutasim called out “Stop!”

 

He heard booming cheers echo around him and something hit his shoulder. Then his head.

 

Then everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos, comments, and bookmarks are appreciated once again. Thx


	3. goddammit adam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aye we're back at it w this
> 
> I just wanna say a few things to clear this up
> 
> Isak is 16, and can't handle his liquor that well. Plus lean is strong, and he pounded 7 shots of vodka in about a minute, so it's only right that he would pass the fuck out. Also, the balloon squad is part of the gang, and I mean no disrespect to Elias' (Bakkoush) or any other muslim balloon boys' religion. This is an AU after all.
> 
> Warnings: mention of violence, drugs, sexual assault, rape, NO ACTUAL RAPE, NEVER
> 
> ok have fun this isn't fucking dark (yet)

[Spotify Playlist if u wanna](https://open.spotify.com/user/bellcam85/playlist/4Jfu2mmC6XsKU8Ns49iGqi)

There was a teenage boy passed out on Even’s shoulder.

 

The boy had just finished what Mutta liked to call the initiation, so really, that just meant getting the poor kid so fucked up he’d need to have his stomach pumped. There was a second round of shots ready, but the kid must’ve been a lightweight. Figures.

 

It was a routine. Every friend of the Helvete Gutter had to do it. All they had last week was tequila, so the kid, Isak, should really be grateful.

 

Ever since they’d met, or rather, seen each other, Even thought about the boy a lot. He couldn’t help himself. Isak was so little and cute. The kid had a certain aura of innocence floating around him at all times. That was one of the main reasons Even was so intrigued by him. He just begged to be swept off his feet, wrecked.

 

His little mouth. His fluffy hair. His wide green doe eyes. His soft skin. His eyelashes, and how they’d flutter when Isak blinked.

 

All of them. Even loved all of it.

 

The boy’s soft golden hair fell against the leather of Even’s jacket. His head rested unceremoniously on Even’s shoulder, sliding down. Isak was about to tumble to the floor when Even wrapped an arm around his middle and dragged his heavy head back up.

 

“Shit. He’s really out, isn’t he?” Mikael peered around Adam to get a better look.

 

“Yeah, no shit.” Even struggled to keep him up. It was like he was made of spaghetti. He tightened his grip around Isak.

 

“A little help here.” Even sassed. He cupped the boy’s cheek to keep his head off of his shoulder. The skin of his cheeks was soft and pliant.

 

Mikael pushed his chair back when he got up, jogging over to help pick Isak up. His hands found their way to the boy’s legs, while Even kept hold of his top half. They heaved him up and lugged his limp body to the bedroom.

 

It was harder than one would think, since Isak was so small looking, but he was no ballerina.

 

Mutta came in after them, laughing his ass off and holding onto the wall to stay steady. Even cracked a smile, too. So did Mikael.

 

“Hey, uh, I just got a call and they’re already at the spot.”

 

Mutta’s face straightened a bit as he continued, his voice becoming more authoritative.

 

“ _He_ obviously can’t come along. He’s new anyway. So, Even-“

 

Even nodded. He let go of Isak completely. The boy was laying across the dusty bed, now.

 

“You should stay with him, find something for him to do when he wakes up. We’ve still got shit to sort, bills to count. Y’know, that stuff.”

 

Even tugged his bandana up his neck and over his head. He clutched it, nodding along to Mutta.

 

“Yeah, I can, I guess. You sure you have enough guys?”

 

“I’ll take what I can get.” Mutta shrugged and backed out of the room. He motioned for Mikael to come with him. Mikael gave him a nod as he walked out, then closed the door.

 

Even studied the boy lying on the bed. His hair was sticking up in every direction and his mouth was parted slightly. His limbs were bent at a variety of awkward angles, his shirt riding up to expose and inch of pale skin.

 

He edged closer to Isak and sat on the bed next to his head. Even took a moment to take in the boy’s appearance, legs spread wide and his back pressing into the mattress. He reached down to the golden curls that covered Isak’s face.

 

_Code, Even. Code._

Even’s common sense pulled him up by the spine, off the bed and out to the kitchen. The hallway was dark as always. _That light bulb really needs changing._

 

Mutta and the guys had left the bong. _Good_.

 

Even wandered to the sink, pulling the cabinet overhead open and finding the cleanest glass. He rinsed it out before filling it from the tap and stalking out the kitchen.

 

Even gave Isak 10 minutes before he would wake up. Bet.

 

On his way back to the bedroom, Even noticed a few AKs missing from the pile on the couch.

 

_Goddammit, Adam._

They had a big time deal that night, that’s what the other’s left for, and they were set to make some serious money. That was, if it worked out and went off without a hitch in the plan.

 

The plan, as they had gone over many a time, was to take separate cars to the spot. They needed three guys to patrol the area, unarmed, while the exchange went on. So unless Mutta had authorized him to bring the assault rifles, Adam was disobeying orders. Going off the plan.

 

Shit could definitely hit the fan. _But it might not. Who knows._

When Even got back into the room, Isak was still unconscious. He set the water down on a rickety desk next to the bed, and went to the bathroom.

 

He splashed some water on his face for good measure, then dampened a washcloth with cool water from the faucet for Isak. That kid was gonna be pretty out of it when he woke up.

 

Even adjusted his hair in the mirror before returning to the bedroom.

 

Isak had turned over onto his side and his face was pressed into the dusty pillow. His neck looked bent uncomfortably. Even pulled the boy’s hair back from his forehead and pressed the wet towel to his warm skin. His finger strayed from the towel and stroked along Isak’s eyebrow, and down to his long, _long_ , lashes.

 

It was a religious experience, to have someone so pure and beautiful and soft, in the palm of his hand. He grasped the towel again and continued dabbing at Isak’s face to cool him down. In the quiet environment, he could hear little wheezes coming from the boy’s parted lips.

 

Even’s eyes trailed down to the exposed skin at Isak’s stomach. The dim lighting from a lamp in the corner illuminated it, soft, smooth, and milky white.

 

_Code, Even. There’s a fucking code!_

The Helvete Gutter, no matter how bad their name made them seem, were a noble clan, at least compared to the others. Even was second in command of that particular camp, after Mutasim of course.

 

Both of them where the money workers, who dealt mostly with the business aspect of things. Selling, arranging shipments, intimidating teenage stoners. The usual.

 

Mikael was the closest thing Even had to a real friend, since his line of work didn’t allow room for ‘mates’. He, unlike Even, was one of Helvete Gutter’s best getaway drivers and pack leaders.

 

Adam was one of the few gunners they had. The gunners dealt with blood. You can imagine what they do.

 

Back to the code, now. The code wasn’t engraved anywhere; it was just a set of rules that are laid out for new ‘friends’ of the gang after they finish initiation, but it was important nonetheless.

 

Helvete Gutter didn’t fuck with things like rape, assault, or civilian killings. All the violence was business based, no fighting with randos, nothing that crossed the _creepy_ line. So basically, they weren’t allowed to hurt anybody who hadn’t wronged them.

 

Even had come dangerously close to breaking the code as minutes passed. He kept his resolve though; he was better than that, even with a soft pretty boy passed out underneath him.

 

His phone chimed, thankfully keeping Even from making a very big _mistake_. Not raping Isak, Jesus. Just touching him while he was passed out drunk.

 

He moved his hands away from Isak’s face, leaving the towel in its place. He fumbled around his pocket for his phone.

 

He had two texts and one missed call from Sonja. _Ugh_. Even wasn’t known to be good at multitasking, so he promised himself he’d deal with her later, and shut the screen off.

 

Even scooted down to the foot of the bed and unzipped his jacket, throwing it blindly at the floor in the corner. He turned back around to find Isak propping himself up by his elbows, blinking wildly.

 

“Morning sunshine.” Even smirked at him briefly before dropping his features back into an emotionless expression.

 

The small boy rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hands and drew his knees up to his stomach. Even watched his cheeks squish from the pressure. Isak seemed to only just notice the towel sticking to his forehead. His hand flew up to rest on it, then came back down.

 

Even got up from his spot and grabbed the glass of water on the desk. He sat on the edge of the bed, next to Isak, pulling his sleeve down over his shoulder with his free hand. Even brought the cup of water to Isak’s lips, encouraging him to drink.

 

Isak let out a “gnyeahnmmf” before his elbows gave out on him. The boy was flat against the bed again and staring at the ceiling. Even set the cup back down and moved to help him up.

 

He laid a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder first, then snaked an arm around to his other side, tugging him up. Isak’s muscles were fully relaxed and his head lulled back. He smiled a wide, closed mouth smile.

 

“God’morn-mmph”

 

Even adjusted the pillow behind him, ignoring all the dust. He brushed the boy’s hair back and took the towel off his forehead. Isak leaned into his hand. _Stop being cute I’m tryna help you._

Once Isak was slouched with his head against the pillow, Even brought the glass of water to the boy’s lips.

 

Isak moved his face away.

 

“C’mon, drink. Its just water.”

 

He finally took a small sip before grabbing the glass from Even’s sober hands. His grip was too loose to fight against the slippery condensation, so the water spilled all over the two of them.

 

Isak started to shake with laughter. Giggles tumbled out of his mouth, and Even felt his warm breath ghosting over his arm and torso.

 

_Oh jeez._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feel free to leave kudos, comment, or bookmark this if u like it


	4. minty freshness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok well this is pp short sorry. I ain't got no creativity my dudes. I do have a clear plan for this tho lmao dont worry.
> 
> No TW other than alcohol as always

[Spotify Playlist if u wanna](https://open.spotify.com/user/bellcam85/playlist/4Jfu2mmC6XsKU8Ns49iGqi)

Isak was so fucked. 

He had only gotten drunk twice before, and both of those times were after about three glasses of wine.

This was drunker than Isak had every gotten, or would probably ever get in his life. His head was pounding and swimming at the same time. Everything slowed down and his thoughts mixed and mingled with the actual sounds he was hearing.

Oh, and the tall guy was sitting close to him. 

Isak stared at his soaked through shirt, then at the tattoo laden arms at the guy’s sides. Everything felt so surreal, a hot fucking guy with his abs and chest visible, right next to Isak. The same hot guy’s eyes looking back at Isak. This kinda shit only happened in porn.

Before he knew it, Isak was laughing uncontrollably. He wasn’t sure what was so funny; maybe it was all of it.  
He collapsed back, bumping his skull on the headboard with a thud. He didn’t process the pain, and he didn’t even notice anything had happened until almost a minute later.

Isak sat back up, his giggles dissipating, and noticed that the tall guy was gone. He whipped his head around searching for him.

The guy eventually came back to his bedside with a big white towel. Isak reached a hand up to stroke it, only to have it gently nudged away by the guy.

The guy patted the towel down his own upper body before sitting down on the mattress next to him. 

All he could do was watch idly as the guy unzipped and tugged Isak’s jacket off him. Isak watched his hands work with the fabric, imagining what they would feel like on his skin. He watched his face, trying to memorize the shape of his parted lips.

Isak was too out of it to put a filter on his thoughts, and especially not on the words coming out of his mouth, so he allowed himself to stare; there was no way not to.

Soon enough, Isak was left in his hoodie, feeling exponentially less warm than before. He was a flushed drunk, and it affected him even in the obviously not-heated building.

The guy pressed the towel on Isak’s abdomen, and he could feel his shaky, warm hands through the material. They didn’t travel lower though, in fact, they went up to his pocket. The guy tossed the towel aside and reached in to pull out the handgun Isak had forgotten was in there.

He lifted it up, inspecting it. Isak wasn’t too fucked up to try and assure the guy he wasn’t a threat, so he did his best.

“Iwasn’tgnah-It’snot-Eliasgahmehmblhhng” 

He tried. He really did, but incoherent garbles were all that he could manage at the moment.

Isak studied the guy’s expression, looking for any hint of anger, but there was none. All he did was drop the gun onto the mattress next to Isak’s feet. 

The guy’s hands came back to the pocket of his hoodie, fishing out Isak’s phone and sliding it back into its place.

The guy looked back down at Isak. His expression was uncharacteristically warm and his cheeks lifted higher on his face.

“It’s cool. Really.” The guy sounded sincere, so Isak took it.

A smile spread across Isak’s face and he closed his eyes, relaxing into the pillow. The world felt so much softer than normal. His arms fell lazily to his sides, and his right hand touched something soft. 

Isak’s reaction time was super fucking slow, so he just laid there with his eyes closed for a while, basking in the nice feeling. The soft thing touching his hand hadn’t moved either.

He opened his heavy lidded eyes and looked around him. The guy was still sitting on the mattress next to Isak, staring down at the boy, and much to his surprise, his hand was resting under Isak’s palm.

His eyes were so blue, so pretty. His Adams apple: so visible on his neck, under his smooth jaw. His dilated pupils, blown and unblinking.

The guy was so hot, and so close. And Isak was only human.

Isak moved his fingers to grasp the guy’s hand. 

He didn’t even know this dudes name, but in Isak’s drunken state of being, none of that mattered. The guy was there, and he was beautiful, and tall, and looking back at him like he was candy. And Isak was so fucking lonely, watching Jonas and Eva ‘couple it up’ all the time. 

He just wanted something. 

That’s a lie; he wanted everything. So he asked for it.

“Kmmphmeh”

-Or he tried to. Words still weren’t forming just right yet. He looked back down at their intertwined hands and found that the guy hadn’t pulled away; in fact, his thumb was rubbing a tender circle into the top of Isak’s hand. The guy remained sat on the edge of the bed with an amused smirk on his face.

Isak held his breath. Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.

The moment was over as soon as it started though, because the guy hopped up abruptly, leaving Isak with and empty hand as he lay on the bed. The guy went for his jacket that had found its way to the floor somehow and turned towards the doorway. Isak waited for the guy to look back at him, but his eyes were trained on the floor.

Isak wanted the guys hand back. So badly. 

He still wasn’t able to move on his own without falling back against the bed, but Isak was so desperate to go after the other boy that he tried anyway. 

He flopped onto his side and pushed himself back until he hit the splintered headboard. His body felt, confusingly enough, heavy and light at the same time.

“Wait” Isak managed to choke out, right before the guy could close the door behind him.

The door pushed open further and the guy walked back in, finally looking back down at Isak. His face seemed less amused now, more blank than anything else.

“Hm?”

Isak didn’t rightly know what he wanted from the guy after he came back, he didn’t even expect him to come back in the first place. Before he knew it, words pushed themselves up his throat and into the air between them.

“Kiss me.” It came out as more of a plea than a demand.

The guy’s eyes widened and he stopped dead in his tracks. His hair had fallen partly in his face, being blown to the side by drafts from the doorway.

“Isak..”

Isak slid down the pillow he rested on and lay flat on his back, and the words just kept coming out.

“I want to kiss you.” Isak slurred. A dizzy smile began to form on his face. He was delirious and tired, and above all, supper fucking drunk. It was no wonder the guy rejected him then.

“No you don’t.”

Isak move to look back at the guy, instead he stared at the cracks in the ceiling and the little stars dancing above him.

He hummed to himself and nuzzled the duvet, feeling dust transfer onto his skin.

There was a minute of silence before Isak felt something being tossed onto the mattress and breath against his neck. 

Isak moved his eyes toward the guy’s face hovering above his. He held his gaze with the guy’s own before taking a glance down at his lips.

It happened in slow motion-or, at least, it felt that way to Isak. 

The guy moved his hand up to cup Isak’s cheek, positioning their faces square with each other. They locked eyes for a brief second before Isak’s eyes fluttered shut and the guy’s lips were on his.

It might have been his own mouth he had tasted, but the other boy tasted like cherry candy and spearmint. The two flavors weren’t the most complimentary, but it worked for him.

His lips were smooth and firm as they pushed gently at Isak’s. He felt like he was floating, barely even aware of the bed underneath him.

Isak still couldn’t lift his arms fully, so he took a loose grip on the guy’s shoulders. In response, the guy stroked his thumb along Isak’s jaw, causing his mouth to fall open by instinct.

The guy ran his hand down Isak’s cheek one last time before pecking the corner of his mouth and standing up off the bed. Isak’s reaction time was still impaired, so he laid motionless with his eyes closed for a moment.

When he opened his eyes back up, the guy was gone.

Isak was only momentarily heartbroken though, because he drifted asleep. It may have been another drunken blackout, who knows. 

It was around 1 in the morning anyway and Isak needed his beauty sleep.


	5. like-like

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isak comes home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hew yo im getting the hang of format i guess. Also here's possibly the longest chapter. Sorry I haven't been updating
> 
> whoopsies

Isak woke up to the clink of an old radiator with a raging hard-on, a churning stomach, and a pounding head. He rubbed the crust out of the corners of his eyes before assessing his situation.

 

He couldn’t recognize the room for the life of him, and his skin felt grimy and itchy from the bed sheets. Isak threw the duvet off him and stood up with too much difficulty than he should have.

 

The room was beginning to heat up, a low rumble coming from the wall to Isak’s right. He bent down to look for his coat, his head practically splitting with pain as he did so. “Fuck” He swore.

 

His coat was gathering dust as it lay partially underneath the bed, and Isak shook it out before slinging it in the bend of his elbow. He winced with every step he took, the sheer movement magnifying his headache.

 

Isak staggered out through the bedroom’s open door and out into the hallway. He looked for any light coming from literally anywhere, but there was none and he narrowly missed tripping.

 

Once through the hall, he came to what looked eerily familiar. He just couldn’t place the memory.

 

Isak reached blindly at the wall for a light switch, eventually finding one and illuminating part of the room. After his eyes recovered from the drastic change, he remembered where he was.

 

Most of his memory was cloudy at best, but the last thing he remembered clearly was sitting at a table- _that one over there_ \- and chugging lean, throwing back vodka. _Ugh, vodka._ His mouth still tasted of the terrible stuff.

 

Isak had no idea what time it was or what happened after he blacked out, how he got into that bed. He wiped his palms down his face to get some of the dust off.

 

He looked around the room. It looked so much different than he remembered. There was no smoke clouding his vision, no guns lying around, no bags on the couch. Oh, yeah, and no one else was there.

 

Isak was completely alone in a drug lair in fucking _South Bislett._ It was at this time that Isak’s pent up confusion and panic started to set in. He thrashed his coat around in search of his phone, unlocking it with trembling hands. He had 3 missed calls from Jonas, a text from Eva, and _what?_ five from his dad.

 

He ignored his texts because he didn’t need anything else to stress about and went to dial Jonas. Isak bit his nails waiting for his friend to pick up, to tell him what happened, how to get home, why he left him there; anything.

 

Isak’s call went straight to the machine. _Fuck’s sake._

 

He went for the door, unlatching a total of five locks before it finally opened for him. The cool air from outside pushed into the room and at Isak’s face. It felt nice against his flushed (residually)drunk cheeks.

 

Isak stepped out, remembering to shut the door after him and came up the stairs and onto the pavement outside. He walked stiffly for a few meters before his stomach gurgled. _Oh shit._

Aaaaaaand that was the moment when ‘shit hitteth the fan’, so to speak.

When Isak’s insides gave another lurch, he automatically folded over, grabbing for the nearest wall, and retched his stomach’s contents out onto the ground. When he came back up, his head was pounding again. _Fuck._ He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and pushed himself back from the wall, starting on his way home, before remembering he didn’t know where he was.

 

Isak knew not to take the tram home, the shaking would just aggravate his pounding head, or worse: make him puke again. He didn’t have any money anyway so _that_ was off the table. He chose instead to find a route on Google maps, happy that he had charged his phone last night before Jonas picked him up.

 

The early morning sun barely peaked out from behind the old, tall buildings in the area and everything looked muted: grey.

 

He trudged along the unlit roads and motorways in silence, letting his thoughts consume him. There was a terrible feeling deep in his stomach that he knew wasn’t only from the hangover.

 

Isak felt like the butt of some elaborate joke that someone, maybe Elias, was playing on him. Nothing made sense; none of it. His mind reeled trying to put pieces of the last night together, but that only made things worse. Isak didn’t know why he had been in that dusty bed, what had happened after he drank all that shit, where the other guys were when he woke up, why his jacket was under the bed, why he woke up with _wood,_ of all things.

 

Isak could picture all the gangster guys laughing at him after he passed out, slapping his face, calling him a pussy, a fag. Jonas, Elias, the blurry faces around the table that he couldn’t quite remember, the tall guy. They must’ve had such a laugh. Isak was surprised he didn’t wake up with a dick drawn on his forehead.

 

_Make fun of the little guy! Sure! Just perfect, not like I get enough of that already._

He couldn’t even fight back at them, not even in his own head. Because he agreed with them. How could he not? A lightweight first year who passed out at initiation was no better than a group of drug dealers. Isak had no high horse to sit on. He should have expected it all. But he didn’t and ran in blindly.

 

He was a coward.

 

.

 

The sun had flown higher and higher in the sky by the time Isak came within a few blocks of his house. His headache was beginning to dull but the uneasy feeling in his stomach remained. Isak’s mind had been concocting scenarios of what might have happened the night before but none of them seemed palpable.

 

Not until _it_ happened. The second a few of the puzzle pieces clicked.

 

His memory flooded with hazy, new information. He recollected feeling the tall guys hand on his before he drank, a fuzzy, choppy memory of waking up with a towel on his face. The tall guy’s scent invading every part of his mind, his tattooed arms, the feeling of those tattooed arms pressing his hands onto Isak’s abdomen.

 

For fuck’s sake, he didn’t even know the guy’s name and he was already obsessing. Calling him ‘the guy’ was easy than calling him ‘tall blonde dealer I’d climb in a heartbeat’ anyways.

 

What the fuck. What the fuck. _What the fuck_.

 

There was one more memory locked in there somewhere. A hazy, foggy moment where Isak _felt so many things._ Not just the feeling of being wasted off his ass and lazing around. It felt like sparks. Like pop-rocks on his tongue. A taste: cherries and vodka and _mint_.

 

Isak’s stomach dropped.

 

He let his hair fall over his face, continuing his walk home. Isak felt like a hollow puppet, being moved by invisible strings. Pulled by the force of his final destination.

 

One block away from home now, and Isak couldn’t help from think about the tall guy. He hung on to every memory of him. His face, arms, hands, hair, and the smell of his liberally applied aftershave. All that and one other thing.

 

Mint.

 

_Oh god. Oh dear god. Isak, you did NOT._

_You didn’t._

He didn’t.

 

Isak was remembering things all wrong. He passed out after drinking and everything else was a dream. A group of the gangsters must have deposited him in bed and left him there til morning. That’s totally it.

 

Maybe he was slipped a mentos by Jonas or something. Maybe he sleepwalked and ate a candy cane. Anything was possible, really.

 

The hungry, panicked, nagging feeling was all probably just from the hangover; he’d be fine after a shower and a nap. Surely.

 

Isak hadn’t done anything embarrassing. He was gonna be chill, super _chill_.

 

.

 

When Isak finally came to his front door, he reached into his pants pocket for his keys and tiptoed into the entryway after unlocking it as silently as he could. He sat his keys down on the kitchen counter as he passed it and almost crashed into someone coming up the stairs.

 

The person was his dad. _What the fuck?_

Isak’s father looked down at him with judgmental eyes, freezing him to his spot.

 

“Where were you?”

 

_Well isn’t this just perfect?_

 

Isak gave him a challenging glare, hoping that he didn’t smell like vodka anymore, or vomit really. God, he hated hearing that voice, especially in the morning. Isak would have preferred _literally_ anything else.

 

“Where were _you_?” He asked, giving his best defensive look, hoping it would drive him away.

 

His dad looked taken aback for a moment before he regained his composure, straightening his tie and stepping down the final stair step. Isak turned to follow him as he waited for an answer.

 

Isak’s dad set his phone down on the kitchen counter next to Isak’s keys and looked back at his son.

 

“I was on a business trip, Isak-“ He said. “-And I don’t care if you don’t ‘believe me’. It’s actually my job, okay?” His voice raised at the end of his sentence. It sounded more like a groan than anything else, like Isak’s dad was tired of being expected to give a fuck about his family.

 

What a joke. _You think_ **you’re** _tired? Ha._

 

Isak rolled his eyes. They had this same conversation many a time before, and nothing was ever resolved. His dad never took the time to be a father to him or a husband to Isak’s mom. He probably considered her too much of a bother, Isak too. Actually, Isak knew he did, he was just biding his time before he’d leave them for good.

 

Listening to his dad’s voice was beginning to worsen his headache and it was making him extra on-edge.

 

“Sure it is..” With that, Isak walked up stairs to his room, slamming the door behind him.

 

He surveyed his surroundings; everything was in its place. As it should be. His laptop was still open and laying on the floor, without a doubt dead battery-wise. Isak sighed and tossed his jacket on his bed before making his way to the bathroom for a shower.

 

Upon looking at himself in the mirror, Isak noticed a trail of discoloration on his neck as well as his cheeks. He thought back to the dusty bed he woke up in as he moved closer to the glass to inspect his face. It must’ve been from laying there for _who_ _knows how long_. He hadn’t really thought about his appearance until then, but boy was Isak a mess.

 

His hair looked matted and greasy, sticking up at all angles and along with the rash, there was a faint pillow print on his face. _Shit, I look like a zombie._ He instinctively scratched at his reddened skin, feeling a sting where his hand touched. He hoped his skin would calm down after a shower, maybe rinse off all that foreign dust.

Isak stepped back from the mirror and pulled his hoodie over his head, throwing it on the floor with a little too much force. There was a matching rash on the pale skin of his hips as well as along his sides.

He pulled and prodded at his torso in search of, most likely, more marks and redness. As if on cue, his stomach give a loud gargle and a sharp hunger cramp ripped through his insides.

 

 _Shit_ , with all the other drama going on, Isak hadn’t eaten since lunch the previous day. Plus, he only just unloaded his entire gut on a lamppost that morning. He was just unzipping his jeans when there was a knock at the bathroom door.

 

Isak grunted “What?”

 

“I have to go again.” Came his dad through the barrier.

 

“Bye.” Isak said shortly, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

 

He heard a cough from outside. A door closed somewhere out in the hallway.

 

“Well you’re not gone yet, so..” Isak trailed off.

 

The way he talked to his dad could probably be considered rude, but Isak didn’t give a shit. His dad was barely his dad anymore anyways. He was only around once a week at most, and his visits became shorter and shorter as the weeks passed.

 

“Take care of Mamma, okay? She a bit stressed right now.”

 

_Stressed. No shit._

Isak glared at the door, imagining his dad in front of him. “Okay. Anything else?”, he asked. He just hoped his dad would let it go and leave already, Isak didn’t need another lecture on how ‘mamma needs you’ and ‘it’s important, Isak, I have somewhere to be’. He’d heard it all before.

 

And besides, there wasn’t much a sixteen-year-old boy could do to take care of his mother when she went _mental_ like she always did. No matter how he prided himself on being fearless (which he wasn’t) his mother’s episodes always scared him half to death. Isak never knew what to do when his mom came at him with a knife, or sobbed so loudly he could hear it through 2 bedrooms.

 

Fortunately, no answer came from outside the bathroom door and Isak could breath again. After he stepped out of his jeans and let the shower water warm for a minute or so, he stepped in and took all the time he needed to sort through last night’s events. Well, all the ones that didn’t involve fucking spearmint, he didn’t need that in his life right now.

 

And maybe he took care of his leftover morning wood, too. Or maybe he didn’t. No one had to know.

 

+

 

After he finished his shower 30 minutes later –he didn’t care about the environment- he popped a frozen pizza in the oven and took off to his room to change into some clean sweats and a tshirt. He sniffed a relatively clean-looking grey scoop neck and pulled it on before hopping onto his duvet. When he opened his laptop further he was met with a black screen, so he plugged it in and checked his texts instead.

 

Since the time he woke up, he had received 4 texts from Jonas and a 2 more from Eva. Plus, a missed call from both. He completely looked past the conversation with his dad and checked the others.

 

**Jonas Vaseline**

 

(01:23) _Bro_

(01:23) _are u okay, you were asleep when we went out_

(07:46) _Isak_

(10:15) _im worried now, are you okay you’re not answering_

(12:09) _I’m fine. A little hungover_

(12:10) _I just git home a while ago_

(12:10) _**got_

 

**Eva Mohn**

(23:02) _Hey Isak, we haven’t talked in a while. Skype me_

(23:56) _isakkkkkkkkkkkk_

(08:37) _skype me bud I have smth to ask u_

 

(12:12) _hey sorry I just woke up_

 

(12:12) _my laptop’s dead rn but ill call you soon, okay?_

The responses came almost in an instant.

 

**Jonas Vaseline**

(12:13) _im glad youre okay_

 

(12:13) _how’d you get home with a hangover and all?_

 

Honestly, Isak was surprised he made it home in one piece, too, it was practically impossible for him to stagger home after a first year party, let alone with his head pounding. But the impossible was starting to look less so, if the past few weeks were anything to go by.

 

(12:15) _walked_

 

(12:15) _walked?_

 

(12:15) _Isak you live past nissen. NORTH_

 

(12:16) _how’d u manage to make it without combusting or being run-over?_

 

(12:16) _man I guess I’m just a wizard or some shit_

 

(12:17) _I did puke a little tho_

 

(12:17) _hA_

 

(12:18) _sorry I didn’t help much_

 

(12:18) _it’s okay_

 

(12:18) _Mikael told me Even stayed back to take care of you_

 

(12:19) _whatever that means_

 

(12:19) _Even?_

 

(12:20) _you know, tall, blonde, likes to pull out switch blades in front of first years_

(12:20)  _and yes, I did see that_

(12:21) _dude's fucking scary_

 

(12:23) _oh_

 

Even. His name was Even. Well that was news.

 

He could finally put a name to the face that would be haunting his dreams for the rest of his unforeseeable future, and it fit. _Even_ felt nice on his tongue –no. shit, that was a thought for another time. Actually, no. Strike that thought all together. What the hell?

 

Isak shook his head and slumped further down his pillow, switching over to his forgotten chat with Eva.

 

**Eva Mohn**

 

(12:12) _my laptop’s dead rn but ill call you soon okay?_

(12:14) _sure! snx_

(12:23) calling now, don’t be naked

 

Upon sending the last text, he set his phone down in favor of pulling up skype on his, now 26% charged, laptop. He started a video call with Eva and listened to the dumb music while waiting for her to pick up.

 

“Hey!” Eva chirped through his speakers. She was wearing her hair in a loose bun and, as far down as Isak could see, a light grey zip up hoodie over a maroon tshirt. He waved meekly at her.

 

“Woah you look like hell. What happened?” Eva excalaimed with a look of outrage on her face. Isak huffed a laugh, but it hurt his raw throat and he ended up hacking for a second.

 

“I got shitfaced last night, Eva.”

 

She giggled like he was joking, then, when she looked back at his unchanging expression, it was clear he wasn’t kidding. “Wait, really?” Eva raised her eyebrows. “Was there a party? I missed a party?”

 

Isak shook his head.

 

“I don’t drink and tell.” He said. “So what was it you wanted to ‘ask me’?”

 

Eva’s head shot up, her eyes open wider. She smiled through the screen.

 

“Oh yeah! Well since we haven’t really hung out together lately, you and me, I thought maybe you’d want to come get coffee. Sound chill?” Eva asked cheerily. Isak couldn’t help but smile a closed lipped smile back at her.

 

“Sounds chill.” He confirmed. “Just us?”

 

“I mean, if you want… But I was actually planning to have Sara and Sana tag along. You know them.” Eva said, glancing down at something, most likely her phone, out of the skype call frame.

 

Isak thought back to Sara and Sana. ‘ _You know them._ ’ Yeah, he did know Sara. How could he not, when he’d been forced to spend time with Ingrid and Sara during Jonas and Ingrid’s relationship? And now that Eva had mended things with them, he was gonna have to spend even _more_ time around them.

 

And Sana. He wouldn’t really go as far as to say he knew her, but he definitely knew _of_ her. She was the pretty, short girl sat front of him in his chem class, that would always glare daggers at him whenever he sneezed or coughed. Needless to say, she was sort of intimidating. But Isak had also seen her around Eva’s new friend group, so he assumed if she got along with Eva, she wouldn’t hate him _that_ much.

 

“Yeah –No -It’s fine. Uh, they seem nice…” He shrugged. At least Sara seemed nice, from what he’d seen of her, she was always smiling and laughing. Well, except for during her, Ingrid’s, and Eva’s feud, but he supposed that didn’t really count.

 

Sana, well, she didn’t really seem anything. Sort of closed off, maybe. But he couldn’t exactly blame her for not jumping on every chance to talk to the idiots at their school. At least that was one thing they had in common.

 

“Yeah?” Eva looked back up at him, smiling. He nodded and pulled the laptop closer to his face. Isak felt his eyelids already threatening to fall shut. His hangover was really catching up to him, and full speed too.

 

 _Bing_! The oven went off from downstairs. Isak looked back at Eva to see that she had heard the noise too and was wondering what it was.

 

“Pizza’s ready.” He said. Isak pushed his laptop onto the bed and stood up. His head started pounding harder at the movement and Isak winced. Eva was still on the call and she piped up from the other end of the line.

 

“Okay! I’ll just text you all the info when it’s set. See you, Isak. Bye!” She said before hanging up. Isak only stayed in the room to hear that familiar call-end noise before he was practically bolting down the stairs for his pizza. Fuck, he was starving.

 

-

 

Monday arrived along with a confirmation text from Eva, telling him they were all at KB, asking him if he was coming or not. He _had_ promised Eva, that was true. But the thing was, Isak was the furthest thing from a morning person. In fact, you couldn’t get him to wake up before 6 if you bribed him with 100,000kr and a puppy.

 

Isak had still promised her he’d show, though. Even if that meant being just a _smidge_ late, so be it.

 

As an added plus to their whole arrangement, Isak was looking forward to having something to take his mind off the mess he had created for himself. He’d meet the girls, make small talk, and get to class as planned; perfect.

 

Also coffee. Coffee was one of the driving factors, too. No matter how bad it tasted, he’d at least be awake enough to not fail all his classes.

 

With his backpack slung over one shoulder, his jacket wrapped loosely around his torso, and his shoes (clumsily) laced, he set out to KB. Ignoring the loud banging sounds coming from his mom’s room, he grabbed the keys and made his way out the front door.

 

The sun had barely even begun to rise in the sky and a gust of wind hit his face, biting at his reddening cheeks. Isak saw speckles of wetness on the pavement as he slumped towards the street corner and closer to the main road.

 

He really did like mornings. Not the waking up part, but how everything looked, how calm it was.

Still, something about his current situation reminded him of the morning he woke up in that dusty bed downtown. It was a completely different kind of thing, but he still couldn’t help remembering it all.

 

How sad that he remembered that morning’s pain and confusion, his stumble home, and not the night before. The night he was supposed to prove himself and take after Jonas.

 

There had been so many times he wished he was like Jonas.

 

By the time Isak got to KB to meet the girls, angry looking clouds had gathered in the sky. He only just made it through the doors before it started to rain.

 

The chiming of a little bell above the threshold signaled his entrance and Isak looked around the crowded room in search of Eva’s familiar auburn hair.

 

He found her sat at a little table by the window, holding a steaming cup of something between her hands. She was sat beside the pretty girl in deep reddish-purple lipstick, Sana, with Sara and honey brown ponytail sitting across from them next to an empty seat. Isak sat down next to her and dropped his bag to the ground with a thump.

 

Eva squealed, “Isak!”

 

“Hey, sorry I’m late”, he breathed. Sara turned around to face him with a smile. She slide a paper cup to him, keeping her fingers wrapped loosely around it.

 

“I got you a latte before you got here, I hope that’s alright.” Sara beamed at him. Isak had no taste for coffee, especially overly sweet lattes, but she looked so sincere that he just couldn’t refuse.

 

It was a nice gesture. Even if he didn’t deserve her being nice to him.

 

He smiled back at her weakly, “Yeah, thanks-“ Isak took hold of the cup, his hand briefly touching Sara’s. “-I um, I usually prefer tea, but… But I’ll probably need the caffeine. Thanks.”

 

Sara patted his hand as it wrapped around his coffee and turned back to her own drink. “No problem” She said with a nod, the same smile not leaving her face. Isak didn’t think it even _could_ leave.

 

“-And tea, I’ll remember that next time.” Sara continued, her smile becoming even sweeter. Isak’s shoulder ached when she bumped his shoulder with hers just a bit too enthusiastically.

 

When Isak looked across the table, he was met with Eva’s shocked look as she shot glances between him and Sara. Next to her, Sana gave him a subtle nod and lifted up her cup with a tag dangling out of it on a string, tea.

 

“Next time?” Eva asked.

 

Sara looked sideways at Isak. “Ummm-“ She stammered. Eva’s eyebrows went up, still looking back and forth between the two of them.

 

Isak had all the reigns in that moment. There was a 50/50 chance that Sara liked him and it was pretty clear which side the metaphorical coin would land on. He could tell by how eager she was to touch him and smile at him, and Isak liked her too. Sort of. She was pretty, friends with one of his closest friends, cheery, nice. Isak felt stupid thinking as a 12 year old would because even though he liked Sara, he didn’t _like_ -like her. And he didn’t know why other than the obvious: he was just a little bit broken.

 

“Our next date.” Isak said. He smiled down at the girl next to him for as long as he could stand, earning a starstruck look, before turning back to Eva and Sana. “Okay..” Sara whispered.

 

_Hook, line, and sinker._

Across the table, Eva had her elbows on the table and her chin in her palms. She gave Isak one last indecipherable look before grabbing for her cup again.

 

Sana broke the silence. “Well anyways…”

 

“How are your new teachers?” Eva asked, looking around the table in a circle. She still looked pretty awkward –scratch that- _awestruck,_ but she seemed to be recovering. Isak was glad for the change of subject, because he didn’t think he could fake interest in Sara convincingly for much longer. At least not to himself, and he was the main person he was trying to convince.

 

“Good. Isak? Sara?” Sana answered, looking far more cool, but still somewhat questioning. Maybe looking cooler was just part of who she was.

 

Isak nodded, finally taking a sip of his coffee, “Yeah.”

 

Their dysfunctional coffee date went on more smoothly from there, the conversation less stilted, their group splitting up occasionally to talk separately. Eva shared a few embarrassing stories from last year with the table while Isak shouted at her to stop, but he ended up just sitting there taking the abuse. He knew there was no stopping Eva.

 

The whole time, he could practically feel Sara’s eyes on him, and he willed himself to look back. To play along, and he did. He should have liked her more, though. He should have wanted to look back. He should have tried harder to feel something.

 

And when Isak left KB an hour and a half later, with Sara’s number scrawled prettily across a napkin, he left with a promise to himself that he _would_ try harder. Until he didn’t have to try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahahaha sorry.
> 
> yell at me at my [tumblr](http://koolranchkidz.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> Woot woot 
> 
> Comments Kudos and Bookmarks are appreciated thx


End file.
